Isaka Uchiha/Shingetsu
| birthdate = September 1st | age = 16-17 | status = | gender = Female | height = 5'7 | weight = 149 lbs | blood type = | affiliation = | occupation = | team = | partner = | clan = | family = Sorame Uchiha (Grandmother) | rank = | classification = | reg = | academy = | chunin = | jonin = | kekkei = Sharingan Mangekyō Sharingan (In Time) | mora = | tota = | unique = | beast = | nature = Yin Release | jutsu = | tools = A Grandmother's Eyes }} is the only grandchild of Sorame Uchiha and daughter of an unknown Uchiha father. A beloved child, Isaka's birth was the day her parents settled down. No longer forlorn in a state of stoic melancholy, express minor annoyances in a manner akin to a robot. Instead, a smile transformed their visages, the yawning, squirming child giving life to the parents who conceived her. Shortly after everything was settled, parents and child would leave the hospital before settling in a quiet town in the Land of Hot Water, years of saving paying off in the form of a tranquil home. Their little haven would remain just that for a while, mother and child enjoying each other's company, while breaking the monotony with occasional trips to a nearby town, Isaka playing with the village children as her mother did the marketing. Her father would accompany them on occasion, Isa sitting on his shoulders as they picked up items for their home. While not a fanciful existence, it was a fulfilling one as the girl acquainted herself with a larger group of people while relishing the intimate happiness her and her parents enjoyed in their quite country home. Yet it would be dashed as ghosts from a distant past resurfaced. The silent night exploded with noise. What started as only a couple turned into scores, all aimed at eliminating the couple. Tied up in disgust for the Uchiha and tying up loose ends for the long destroyed organization. Sheltering the girl, her parents began engaging the would be assassins. Alas, they were no ninja, years of no practice and soft living proved fatal, as they would be overwhelmed and dealt with. First the father, then the mother. A terrified Isaka would run out, attempting to hug her parents fleetingly warm bodies, blood pooling from their frames; the shade would soon be reflected in her eyes. Yet as the approached, he would fall. One by one, the remaining group would be dealt with as a solitary woman remained. Her eyes softened and filled with sadness in equal measure, seeing a sobbing child clutching two corpses. Her granddaughter. Taking the weeping girl into her arms, her own tears would fall. Never to make amends, the older woman would see that her daughter and son-in-law were at least buried properly. Now, she would begin the process of raising once more; a forlorn and despaired grandchild her charge. Background It was a joyous day. The young couple welcomed the birth of their first child with open arms, a squealing dark-haired girl who squirmed vigorously in the grasp of her mother and father. The infant gave off an air of attentiveness even with her eyes closed, listening to the hushed conversation of the new parents. The little girl didn't know that there was one missing from the momentous occasion. Disagreements between mother and son meant a tale of estrangement, the two sides mutually parting ways for the sake of preserving what little integrity remained in their relationship. Part of the issue came from distance between the two, born of different lives. Another was the continued revisiting of a past that was preferably left unsaid; those days of bloodshed and emotionless living were a drain on conversation. Thus, the new father resolved to do well everything his mother had struggled with; love, affection. Most of all, he wanted his daughter to be happy. He despised the idea of her becoming an shinobi, having avoided the fate himself by finding a decent job and managing to climb up the rankings. It was how he met the child's mother, another disenchanted soul from a shinobi family; that was part of the reason why the clicked so quickly. They understood how much the shinobi world could take away and destroy. Thus, it was a steadfast agreement on their part that none of their children would take part in this wretched affair. With the arrival of little Isaka, that resolve would soon be put to the test. For avoiding the life of a ninja was easier said then done. Cleared to leave the quiet clinic, the family would return to their quiet abode on the outskirts of the sleepy frontier town. Situated in the Land of Hot Water, it ample views of the coast coupled with enchanting woodlands, the perfect combination for a young girl to grow up in. Isaka would typically be found exploring the countryside under the watchful eye of her mother or father, picking out bugs from underneath roots, chasing butterflies, and running down new, unexplored trails. These walks through would often be supplemented by trips in town, the girl riding on her father's shoulders while her mother did the shopping. Occasionally she would disembark, tumbling down her father's back to the ground before chasing the village children, off to do the things a mischievous little kid would do. Other times it would be to point out something, usually some trinket or piece of candy that had caught her eye. The typical child ask would follow, the girl making puppy eyes as her pink rose eyes sparkled. More often than not she would wear her parents down, the father being the first to fork over the money necessary for the item. Seeing his daughter's smile made it all worth it to him, even as Isaka's mother berated him good-naturedly. They both believed that their child's happiness was paramount, often indulging her desire to explore and discover. That is, until they made a discovery in the forest one day. A Persistent Past They walked underneath the branches, their shoes crunching on dry leaves as the seasons changed. Seeing their breath in the air reminded them that winter was coming soon, the more difficult part of the year. The parents turned their attention to the gentle curve of the mother's belly; another was soon to be on their way. They had decided this would be the perfect time to make the announcement to their energetic daughter, informing her that she was to be a big sister soon. As they prepared to tell her, however, Isaka ran off, the gleam of something metallic catching her eye. Running to the location, the girl picked it out from among the growing leaf pile, turning over a gleaming kunai as if it were the most engrossing object ever. "What is this?" she asked her parents when they caught up. Seeing their faces go several shades pale only confused the girl. Was there something scary about this little object? It seemed cute if sharp, Isa looping her finger through the hole before twirling it experimentally. Finally, her father found his voice. "That is a kunai..a weapon that you should not holding. Put that down Isaka," he said, his tone strained. Unused to seeing this stress on her parents faces, Saka did as she was told, placing it where she had found it prior. However, when her parents started back the way they came, the girl stuck the tool in her coat pocket. Once certain it was secure, she scampered up the trail, unaware that a pair of eyes was following her movements. They disappeared shortly afterwards, returning to relay the information they had learned: it was time for a cleansing operation to begin. A lecture awaited her when she returned home. Her parents would take turns describing the weapon she had just found in the brush. That it was more than just a kunai for them became clear quickly, describing the danger of the weapon and who typically employed it in combat: ninja. They described these ninja as bad men, prone to endangering good people and hurting those who no way of defending themselves. The little girl then quipped that shouldn't there be good ninja as well to help defend those people. The parents would reluctantly admit that there were, but that good ninja didn't last long; they either died young or lived long enough to see themselves become a villain. Such a lesson would prove durable with what followed. Nevertheless, their lecture ended with the adamant statement that the girl would not pursue this path, that it was far too dangerous and would only end in sorrow. Alas, their information about the weapon and its origins serve to peak her curiosity, the child playing with the lone kunai once she had returned to her room. Occasionally she would swing it around, before casually tossing it at a target in her room. Part of her didn't expect it to hit anything, yet the kunai flew true, burying itself in the bullseye. The sight of seeing it succeed sent a thrill through the little girl's frame. Instinctively, she checked to make sure the door of her bedroom was closed. While most of the lecture went in one ear and out the other, Isaka knew her parents would throw a fit. She would practice throwing it a few more times, before tucking in for the night, kunai in her grasp as she dreamed of more target practice. These dreams would be scattered by screams on the same night. Roused from a sound sleep, she would grip her kunai while staring out the closed window, awash in moonlight as the screams persisted. Dredging up what reckless courage she had, the girl climbed out of her bed, tiptoeing to the door even as her legs shook. It took her three tries to open her bedroom door, long enough to hear the screams cut off with a frightful gurgle. She saw her mother lying on the ground, just ahead in the kitchen area, blood oozing out of her belly and neck. Forgetting any danger, Isa ran full tilt, a death like grip on her kunai as she went to reach her dying mother. She heard roars of anger as sounds of fighting drifted in from outside. Somehow still alive, though fading fast, her mother's widened in terror, shaking her head no. Not wanting her daughter to come closer. Alas, Isaka came anyway, seeing her father grappling with two men. Why were her father's eyes so red and filled with hatred? The little girl couldn't understand as the tears came hard and fast, blurring her vision as she tried to stem the gushing blood wounds on her mother. Her hands proved too small, coming away sticky as Isaka continued her efforts in vain. A crunch would turn her attention elsewhere as her father fell to the ground; years of denying the shinobi way proved costly. Now she screamed, alerting the intruders to her presence. Each took out kunai, ironically noting the one laying next to her as they advanced. Her tear-stained irises soon reflected the same maleficent crimson as the blood pooling around her. They moved instantaneously, the blades bearing down on her person till they suddenly stopped. Each dropping to the floor dead. Behind them stood a woman, her hair salt and pepper from old age. Her gaze was cold, the unmistakable hue of her clan's dōjutsu present. Her hands were still in the same position as they had been when she threw the weapons that buried themselves into the assassins' bodies. She had cleared the premise of others, probably kept in the case of her arriving. Not that they were able to compete against her skills and experience. Yet it seemed frivolous in the end. Her son and daughter-in-law were dead. She had decided on a whim that she would visit them, despite agreeing to stay out of their lives. Occasional updates would be given to her about their status, but all remained partial and incomplete. None of them prepared her for the sight in front of her: a small girl. Eyes like her own stared back at her, weeping unbidden, hands sticky from blood as even now the child attempted to staunch the blood flow from a now dead mother. Why had they never told Sorame that she had a grandchild? Were they afraid of her visiting? That she would give the girl who held a kunai with everything she had ideas? The older woman's gaze softened, walking forward as she bent down to the crying girl's level. Gently wiping away tears from the sniffling girl's face. Sadness creeped into Sora's own heart as she realized that she would never have the opportunity to reconcile with her son and daughter-in-law. "What is your name little one?" she asked, pressing the child to her frame, sensing no resistance as hiccuped and sniffled, soaking the woman. Not that Sorame minded as she held her granddaughter tighter. Still wondering why they had never told her about her existence. She could have prevented all of this had she known. "I-Isaka," came the small reply, "you?" Sora's heart broke a little at the melancholy in the response. "Sorame, Sorame Uchiha my granddaughter." She felt the girl's frame stiffen. "Grandma??" "Yes, grandma little one. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting all this time, I should have been here sooner." With that she stood, picking up Isaka with ease. A burial was in order. 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